And instead of the countless questions he had expected to launch upon her when again they met, he found his lips trembling and wordless--until they uttered one hoarse ejaculation of: "Thank God!" But the girl seemed to understand, for she reached one slender hand to touch him lightly upon the arm where these gripping claws had been. "Yes," she whispered; "I was afraid, too--afraid for you!" More whispered words, but they were lost to Chet in the babel of sound that engulfed them. Those who had brought him had moved silently, and the throng of some hundred or more that waited beside the girl had been mute. But now they burst into a chorus of shrill cries whose keenness stabbed at Chet's ears. A pandemonium of the same high-pitched squeals, he had heard before--this was all that he could distinguish at first. Then the shrill sounds broke into words and unintelligible phrases, and he knew they were talking among themselves. * * * * * They quieted at a sound from the girl. She had turned to face them, and she forced her own soft voice into a shrill pitch as she spoke to them. Their clamor broke out once more as she ceased, but it was more subdued. Chet could hear her as she turned toward him. "They think you are Frithjof," she explained. "You talked with them?" asked Chet incredulously. "But certainly; have I not been here for five years? They have their language--but enough of that now. They are angry. They sent Frithjof away; they tell me now that he escaped; they think you are he--that you have changed your appearance with magic--that the ship they saw was summoned by your magic. They say they will kill us both; throw us to the fires!" "Wait!" almost shouted Chet to make himself heard above the din of shrieking voices. "I've got to know! Who are you? Who is Frithjof? How did you get here? Where are you from? Tell me quickly! It may give me something to go on; it may mean a chance for delay." And if Chet had not been out of breath from the shouted questions, he would surely have been left breathless by their amazing answer. "I thought you knew," said the girl as the din of shrillness subsided. There seemed to Chet a note of hurt in her voice. "I thought you knew, that you had come here knowing. I am Anita, and Frithjof is my brother--Frithjof Haldgren! I stowed away on his ship; he did not know. I was only thirteen then.... And now, is Frithjof forgotten back in that world that we left?" Again that note of disappointment; the pilot sensed it even through the tenseness of the moment when both Earth-folk knew that death stood close at their side. He answered quickly: "I came for your brother. I saw your signals. I came to find Haldgren and to save him. And I have failed. But if death, as you say, is all we can expect, let me say this: 'I have failed, but I have found you; and whatever comes I am content.'" * * * * *